Page 36 of A Gift for her Festive Firefighter

“And I keep second-guessing everything,” he muttered, getting up and stretching painfully. Closing on the house had alleviated some of his stress and concerns, but there was now a light shining on other problems he hadn't realized would crop up.

Furniture.

There was no furniture shop in Sweet Bloom – and it wasn’t like he could just run over to Tyler and get something delivered the next day for a fee. No, New Braunfels was almost an hour away. He went to order a table and chairs on Amazon, thinking he would be slick about it; but the delivery time had left him gaping. It would be almost two weeks before the stuff arrived due to size – and his location. If he was in Ember Creek, it would be there in forty-eight hours, but when he updated it to Sweet Bloom...

Two weeks.

Two freakin’ weeks.

And today was Thanksgiving…

Cade unplugged his cell phone from the wall and immediately texted Jude, Rodney, and Mayberry – telling them to bring a folding chair to sit on and ignored the replies teasing him about his ‘bachelor status’.

“Very funny guys…” he muttered and then smiled, texting Holly.

Morning, my pretty pixie. Happy Thanksgiving!

I don’t know about ‘pretty pixie’ – but you are sweet. Happy Thanksgiving to you too.

And Cade grinned as his phone rang not two seconds later. He quickly slid his thumb across the display, answering it. It was such a miracle to realize just how his precious girl would act – and he knew she would call.

“Heyyyy Pretty Pixie…” he began and immediately was cut off.

“HA!” a voice said tearfully. “I have never been so far from ‘pretty’ or ‘Pixie’ in my life. How in the heck did Cinderella do this and stay sane? I’ve cooked before, I swear it, but something is not right. First, it was the fender that wouldn’t line up, and now I cannot – cannot – get the stupid foil to stay on top of the marshmallow-covered yams. Do you know what you get when you don’t cover them? CRUST. You get dried-out, crusty, burnt, disgusting marshmallows, and I had no idea a marshmallow could be bad but…”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Cade interrupted quickly, stopping the tirade of what was an obvious panic attack from Holly. She was near tears, and they both couldn’t be having a breakdown or this high strung and heard the tearful hiccup followed by a whisper full of self-loathing and shame.

“I’ve burned three batches and don’t have any more canned yams or marshmallows,” she uttered… and his heart broke.

“Holly, I love burned marshmallows on top of my candied yams, princess,” he fibbed, needing to bring her down gently. Forget calling her ‘pixie’ – she was his princess. If she wanted the whole storybook fairytale references, then he would do everything in his power to give her those moments. “They are my favorite thing. How did you know?”

“You do?” she sniffed shakily. “I just want this to be so perfect for us since we are having our first holiday together in your new place and…” He heard her take a deep breath before she spoke again. “I’m making too much of this, aren’t I?”

“It means a lot to you – and me. It’s our second holiday together – we had Halloween, now Thanksgiving, and it is going to be perfect, no matter what.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because I get to spend time with you.”

Cade heard a tiny whimper and felt a knowing smile touch his lips, wishing he was right there to hold her. Instead, he was sitting alone in a barely furnished house and feeling that emptiness more and more every second. He started jerking on his tennis shoes as she spoke – because he was going over to help her.

“This is like some dream that I don’t deserve, and I keep pinching myself,” she whispered, her voice laced with emotion. Gosh, hearing how much this meant to her made him want to puff up his chest and beat on it. Maybe it wouldn’t be a jog over to her place but a sprint.

“Holly, can I call you right back? I need to let Knox out…”

“Oh, sure. Yeah. I need to finish getting a few things together anyhow.”

“Thanks, princess.”

And hung up. Turning to Knox, he pointed at the puppy.

“Poop outside if you’ve gotta go. That’s what the doggie door is for – got me? I’m going to get our girl.” Knox barked and angled his head to the side, almost as if he understood, before thumping his tail.

Cade slipped out the front door, locked it – and took off in a sprint. Not seven or eight minutes later, panting and winded, he was knocking on the front door of her shop. He was hanging his head, trying to draw air into his lungs and sweating from the exertion as his hands rested on his knees. Thank goodness it’s getting cold out because I could NOT have done this in August… I’d have gotten heatstroke, he thought, sucking in another deep breath as Holly opened the door.

“Cade? What the…”

He stepped forward and immediately kissed her quickly, wincing because he was afraid he smelled like sweat.

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